


Movie Night

by justhuman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Movie Night, Sharknado - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhuman/pseuds/justhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dating your partner can be a dicey thing especially when work bleeds into movie night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neverdanced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverdanced/gifts).



> Neverdanced, I loved everything about your Dear Author letter -- so much that I might borrow it for myself in future ficathons. I hope that my Sam/Natasha matches in some ways to yours.

Sam wasn’t a shy guy, so standing outside a door and debating whether he should knock wasn’t his style. Then he thought to himself teammates visited each other, so why the hell not? He knocked. The door opened and Sam wondered if Natasha had checked to see who was outside. He’d never ask her a question like that because he already knew the answer.

"Hey there, tall, dark and winged."

"That’s the best you got for me?" Sam said. He smiled as rested his arm against the logs that made up the outer wall of Natasha’s little cabin in the woods.

"Depends on the problem. For instance is someone trying to kill you right now? I deal well with that kind of stuff."

"No, I’m cool. It’s you and Steve – well, Steve who has a target on his back. I’m here as your new neighbor." Sam turned and pointed off in the darkness. "Commander Hill gave me old cabin up near the ridge if I wanted space away from the base. It may be a little more rustic than I bargained for, and I'm wondering if I could borrow-"

"A cup of sugar?" Natasha asked. Sam noticed the voice she used was a combination of her sultry voice and the one she used to call Steve a fossil.

"Sugar would be great, but only if you loan me the cup, too. See, I’m more into basic needs at the moment – cup, blanket, toilet paper. I mean the base is a ten minute walk, and I would just go back to the room they assigned me."

"But it feels like giving up? I'm with you."

"Something like that. So can you help a guy out?"

"Your list sounds a little bourgeois, but I bet I can whip up a care package from the welcome wagon. Come on in." 

Natasha stepped back, and Sam came in, getting his first good look of her little rustic cabin. "Is this for real? You've got couches and throw pillows and all the glass in your windows. Hill gave me a place the boy scouts abandoned about the time Steve would have been a boy scout."

"Don’t take it personal. Hill doesn’t like any of us this much." Natasha frowned. "I'm not sure she likes anyone that much. I’ve been here a couple of months and had a chance to work on it." Natasha pushed him toward the couch, and Sam flopped on its plush, but firm cushions. 

"Work on it? You hung art on the walls. You have electricity. How the hell you do you have electricity? Hill handed me a flashlight. Damn, this is a nice couch." Sam punched a pillow.

An island with barstools separated the kitchen from the living room. Above it was a loft, probably the bedroom. As advertised, a one room cabin out in the woods, but a nice cabin. Natasha pulled things out of the cabinets and fridge. "See, she didn't hand me a flashlight."

"Perhaps she sensed your real superpower was capability."

A bottle cap rattled on the countertop. Natasha gave him the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her. "Aren't you sweet! You are more than sweet because almost no one gets my superpower right. Just for that I will tell you how to make your hovel a home. Act now and this offer comes with the added bonus of bunking on the couch until we chase the squirrels out."

Sam took the beer and checked out the couch again. "I don't know, this feels pretty soft; sometimes I've got issues with a bed that's too soft."

Natasha assessed him as she held out a bag of pretzels stuffed with peanut butter, Sam's all-time favorite snack. "You're not a terrible liar."

"Thanks. I think." Sam pulled the bag open and the smell of junk food hit in the face. "I could maybe sleep on this couch." 

"Good." Natasha flopped back and grabbed a handful of pretzels.

"Hey, hey! Easy with those. Don't be getting crumbs in my bed." 

"We'll be good neighbors," Natasha mumbled as she munched through a pretzel. "We’ll have movie nights, and everything."

***

Natasha showed Sam the key to everything involved in filling out the right requisition form at the base and checking out the non-descript white box truck from the motor pool. With that, you made your way to the two and three horse towns of the region around the base. When you got to the store, there was furniture, food and solar panels or whatever else you put on the form, waiting for you on Maria Hill’s budget. Of all the things you could get, the food was the key to bribe your teammates and the occasional tech to help you unload the truck and run wiring.

Sam knocked on Natasha's door before opening it. "Hey Tasha, are you decent?" The smell of onions cooking hit him and his mouth watered.

"There are some who say I've never been decent," Natasha said as she came and grabbed a bag he was juggling. 

"Not judging you or anything. For the record, I’m good with you decent or not. It smells good in here." He held onto his normal curiosity, because there was a high probability the good smells were a product of the base kitchen.

"Voila!" Natasha raised her hands theatrically around a crock pot. "Easiest thing in the world, two bags of frozen cut up onions and a stick of butter. Then you walk away. Did St. Panteleimon provide?"

Sam smiled and opened a bag from St Panteleimon's Ukrainian Orthodox church. "Yes they did. The little old ladies at the church even let me peak in the kitchen, but I think they needed someone to move a hundred pound bag of flour."

"So selfless. What flavors did they have?" Natasha didn’t contain her excitement well. Sam had even written down her special request.

"I’ve sort've got bad news for you." Sam opened one of the Styrofoam clam shells. They specialize in potato and cheese pierogis nowadays. One filling is easier for the special sales, and it's what most of the Americans want anyway. I was going to mention you were Russian-"

"Oh, I hope you didn’t. Russia didn’t just have problems with countries half-way across the world." Natasha cringed.

"But since I have picked up some geopolitical knowledge. I mentioned I missed the mushroom ones I used to get in DC." Sam opened another clam shell. "Apparently lifting heavy bags of flour can get you into the secret stash."

"Oh!" Natasha looked at the dumplings like they were precious gems. "I’m going to steal you an entire case of toilet paper from the base."

"Great! Now what do I get for bringing these." Sam opened the other bag and revealed stuffed cabbage rolls in an aluminum tray.

"That deserves a better reward than toilet paper. I’ll get the toaster oven going and you drop the pierogis in the onions."

Sam didn’t need to be told twice and joined Natasha behind the counter in the narrow kitchen. The first time he saw it, Sam thought it was just another small kitchen, but it turned out Natasha still ate most of her meals on base. Out in the open were a half-sized fridge and a toaster oven. Kitchen appliances like a single-burner butane stove and the crock pot doing nice work on the onions lived in the cabinets.

For the two weeks he had lived with her, it had been a little frustrating for a guy used to taking care of himself. But with strategic grocery shopping, Sam figured out how to cook in Natasha’s kitchen. That turned out to be a good thing because his cabin wouldn’t be much better equipped. The small number of solar panels on the cabin roof did a good job with basic electrics, but couldn't handle the current of a microwave. In fact, most movie nights, they used candles and lanterns for light and reserved the remaining power for the TV.

It was comfortable brushing up against Natasha in the small space. It built the rapport between them for when the team split off into pairs. He and Natasha gravitated toward one another. 

Sam raised an eyebrow when she pulled out a jar of red cabbage and a container of sour cream.

"Don’t worry; I stick to condiments."

"So what’s our movie line-up tonight?" In a lot of ways, Sam didn’t care about what they watched. For the last couple of months the fun of movie night was being with Natasha. Of course, Sam also liked it when she blew straw wrappers at Rhodey in the cafeteria and tried to set Steve up on a date, just when they were about to drop into a mission. When all was quiet between missions, Natasha would tell him to find good food and they’d watch a movie or three. 

Sam made it a habit to check the local newspapers for every food-based firehouse and church fundraiser. Last month it had been the Elk’s beefsteak – where they put half a cow on a spit. Natasha had paired it with a triple feature of 1950s nuclear science fiction. 

"In honor of the food reminiscent of the good parts of my childhood, we’ll start off with something Russian."

"Hunt for _Red October_? _From Russia with Love_?" Sam asked.

"Nope, I decided to go with something where the Russians win and no female, Russian spies die."

"You got a thing about that, don’t you?"

Natasha gave a noncommittal shrug. "Roger Moore, despite the cheeseball aspects of his movies and I do love cheeseball, was not my favorite Bond."

"Connery," Sam smiled.

"Men always say Connery. Put me in the Daniel Craig column."

"Okay, so what are we watching, where the Russians win?"

" _Alexander Nevsky_. It’s a not-so-thinly veiled anti-Nazi film, made in the 30s. The story is based on Prince Alexander – Alexander Nevsky – defeating the Teutonic Knights of the Holy Roman Empire during the 13th century when they tried to invade Novgorod." 

"Does this have subtitles?"

"it has fantastic battle scenes, most notably the Battle on the Ice. As you might expect from a Russian film, the musical score is also amazing." Natasha gave him a little wiggle of pleasure.

"So, that’s a yes on the subtitles."

"Which are hysterical, if you speak Russian."

"And if you don’t?"

"You have me." Natasha held her hands behind her back and smiled up at Sam. It wasn’t like he would say no in the first place, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t give her a hard time first.

"How many subtitles in second movie?"

"None, unless you need help with Mel Gibson’s Scottish accent."

" _Braveheart_? You’re following up the Russian film with _Braveheart_?"

"Our movie theme tonight is fantastic and fantastical battle scenes. Our final destination is on Middle Earth with _Return of the King_.

"Your movie-fu has not let me down yet."

Natasha smiled as she picked up the jar of red cabbage, but Sam took it from her.

"But I’m not going to trust you with the food. Get out of this kitchen, woman, and let a man do what he was built to do. "

Sam woke up during the closing credits of _Return of the King_. He was lying down with Natasha fast asleep and spooned up against him. If she moved, he'd have a cold spot right in the middle of his chest, so he reached over and turned down the lantern.

***

"Are you sure you can manage the extra weight?" Steve asked.

"The ballerina mission for the KGB was the last time teammates judged my body," Natasha said, securing the last strap on the flight harness. 

"Well, I wasn't saying anything about your body."

"He wasn't saying you were fat, Tasha, he was saying I'm weak," Sam said.

"I'm going to lose this one," Steve said.

"Badly," Natasha said, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Steve sighed. 

Sam laughed. " We got it, Cap. SHIELD science guys have boosted the power on my wings. I can pick up Rhodey."

On cue, Rhodey thumped up next to Sam. "Not if I put on my repulsors. Don't worry, Birdman. If your wings get clipped, I'll carry all three of you."

"I'm sure you will, General, I'm sure you will." Steve said and clapped Rhodey on an armored shoulder, pushing him toward the back of the plane. Over his shoulder, he gave Natasha and Sam a shrug, no doubt trying to soothe any ruffled feathers.

Natasha tugged on a clip attached to the Sam's harness. There was a set of six that ran down his torso. Matching clips ran down the back of the Natasha's harness. "Just like we practiced?"

Sam glanced to either side before saying, "Last time we practiced, there was a lot less clothing."

Natasha smiled and tugged the clip again, yanking him forward an inch. "We can practice more, assuming we live." 

"Oh, we'll live." Sam gave her his best smile to back it up.

"And we don't screw up and need to be rescued."

Sam leaned forward. "You're not earning your nickname on my watch."

Natasha nodded and turned toward the back of the plane. "For the record, I don't want either of us earning that nickname."

Sam walked to the back of the plane and stood behind Natasha. A tech on either side of them linked the harnesses so Natasha would hang beneath Sam's wings as they flew into the danger zone. Despite the bravado of his words, Sam was nervous. They had practiced at the base in upstate New York. Natasha had a natural grace and picked up how to hold her body and position herself for every maneuver, but none of that took into account people shooting at them. 

"Don't be nervous, Falcon," Natasha said. "We're sure as hell not missing movie night this week."

"Go!" Steve shouted as Rhodey leapt with Steve perched on his back, like a Greek god riding some mythical beast into battle. 

"I'm not nervous. You should be nervous because you're essentially body armor."

"We are go," said Vision as he ran down the ramp, Wanda in his arms. 

"I trust you - even though you showed me the vid blowing my popcorn plan." With her left foot, she led the way to the edge of the plane ramp.

Sam laughed. One movie night they had watched _Real Genius_ and Natasha had hit pause and stood up at the climax. With a Startech laser, she was sure they could do the popcorn thing to Steve's room on base. Natasha, ready to face the inevitable wrath of Maria Hill, plotted. Not convinced, Sam had googled and found the MythBusters' episode that debunked it. "Science isn't my fault." Sam wrapped an arm around her waist. 

"Says the man who flies like a bird."

Sam laughed. "Three- two-one – GO!" Once free of the plane and horizontal, Sam spread his arms, deploying the falcon wings. True to form, Natasha moved with him, pulling in her arms and legs as necessary to minimize drag. Sam would miss her comforting weight when she blew the clips holding them together to drop into battle. 

***

Sam heard Jimmy Buffett before he opened the front door and stepped into Natasha’s cabin. "Hey, it’s me." While Natasha would know it was him, there was no point in startling an ex-assassin. Sucking in a breath, Sam began to slowly limp toward the kitchen.

"You're supposed to be resting your ankle. Now go sit on the couch." 

Sam wanted to know what she was concocting in the kitchen, but sat on the couch instead, wrestling with the coffee table and pillows and propping his ankle up. "I'm glad you're feeling guilty - it's your fault."

"I had been fighting on the ground for an hour before you decided to land badly," Natasha set down a large tray on the coffee table and started opening the bag Sam brought.

"Yeah, but I was looking at you being all hot, shooting the bad guys, so your fault. Besides, I needed to prevent you from going through with your dinner…plans." Sam had to slow down his words, because his brain was too busy processing Natasha in a skin tight tank top with a jaws-like shark head breaching the waterline of her short, swishy, blue and white skirt with sharks swimming around the hemline. "Damn. My high school principal would have sent you home for a longer skirt."

"Are you going to send me home?"

"Technically, you are home, but even if you weren't, oh hell no!"

Natasha pointed at him with a smile. "You're in the mood for movie night, despite your protests." She handed him a glass with some kind of blue fluid topped with a plume of blue cotton candy with a bunch of plastic sharks stuck in it. 

"Someone's been on the internet, getting her shark on."

"With relish." Natasha shook her hips, singing along with the music.

_Can't you feel 'em closin' in, honey_  
Can't you feel 'em schoolin' around  
You got fins to the left, fins to the right  
And you're the only girl in town 

"Tell me this song just randomly came up and you don't have a playlist."

"You mean a playlist that includes things like _Maneater_ , _In the Belly of the Shark_ and _Barracuda_?"

"Oh, no you didn't."

"Oh hell yes!"

While Sam shook his head, he let Jimmy Buffet chill his soul. "Despite your scary fan tendencies, I'll be your land shark." Sam moved to get up, but Natasha put a hand on his shoulder.

"Un-uh, Falcon, you're grounded." She took an ice pack off the tray and put it on top of his ankle. "Oh, I almost forgot, you'll need this. Pour it on top of your drink."

Sam shook his head, but took the toy shark with its mouth pointed up and poured it over his drink. A deep red puddle began to spread through the blue liquid. "I hope that's grenadine."

"Blood in the water." Natasha pulled out the still warm food from the bag. "Would it be easier if I brought some plates?"

"Well, those are Styrofoam _clam shells_ ," Sam said, sipping his drink and getting in the mood.

Natasha slid next to him on the couch and handed him a container. "Well we wouldn't want to get too fancy."

"The Fish Fry from the First Baptist Congregation – a good fundraiser for their community program and something better than fish sticks for us. I can't believe you wanted to do frozen fish sticks."

"Like you’re a gourmet. I must say it's quite the coincidence that the First Baptist Congregation had a fish fry tonight."

"They read the TV guide like everyone else. By the way, there are some collard greens in the bag somewhere, and it wouldn't kill you to eat a vegetable."

"Yes, mom."

"Not being your mom, just your wingman." It had come out without thinking, and Sam almost missed the significance of it. He hadn't called anyone his wingman since Riley. Riley and Natasha weren't remotely alike, starting with the obvious that he never dated Riley. Dating, yeah, that was what they were doing. Sam probably should have said 'teammate' instead of 'wingman,' but maybe he should consider saying, _I'm your boyfriend._

Natasha picked up the remote and turned on the TV and killed the music. 

_Sharknado triple feature starts in two minutes with Sharknado, the original, Sharknado 2: The Second One and, for the first time ever, Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!"_

"Oh hell, yes!" Natasha and Sam chorused. 

Sam took the drink Natasha handed him and they clinked glasses, their cotton candy sharknados tangling briefly. Sam looked suspiciously at his drink. Despite the rum, it didn't taste boozy. "Is that a whole pitcher of this tasty and dangerous drink? I hope you weren't planning to drink every time a shark fin is on the screen."

"Nope, just for celebrity cameos, decapitations and use of a chain saw. And don't worry, when we're done with the pitcher, we can switch to these." Natasha held up a dish of mini-cupcakes covered in blue and white swirly icing and had a candy shark fin candy sticking up, right in the middle. "

"Damn, did you bake?"

"Oh hell no. The bakery section of the local supermarket also reads the TV guide."

"I'm good with that." Sam reached for a cupcake, but Natasha pulled it away. 

"Hey, you're the one who brought the green vegetables."

"Romanoff, life is short."

"So we should eat dessert first." Natasha popped a mini-cupcake in Sam's mouth. 

Sam didn't need to think about whether Natasha was an awesome girlfriend or not.

"Careful about the crumbs in the couch. Someone’s not flying up to my loft tonight."

Sam looked at his ankle. "I can vouch for the comfort of this couch if you wanted to fall asleep here."

Natasha kissed him and then stuffed some blue cotton candy in his mouth.

***

"Hey, stranger," Natasha called as she walked up the hill toward Sam's cabin.

"Hey to you too." Sam said, putting down his brush and bucket of sealant.

"I'm heading into town, to grab a few things from the grocery store, want to come? The True Value Hardware in Kingston has their grills on clearance." Natasha held up a colorful insert from the newspaper.

Sam put the lid on his can of sealer and banged it into place with a hammer. "Let's go!"

Sam flipped through the owner's manual of his new grill as Natasha drove. "What do you think about hitting a movie in an actual movie theater?"

"I'm game, if you think you can handle Steve pouting because we didn't make it a team event."

"One day we will convince him TV isn't the devil's device."

"I think it's the screen size. If we got a projection system and lit up the entire wall of his room, he might think differently about it," Natasha said.

"We'd have to force him into a bigger room."

"No forcing necessary. We just move all of his stuff when he's not looking."

Sam laughed and shook his head. She always had a more direct solution to every problem. 

The truck stopped, and Natasha killed the engine. "Next stop."

Sam hopped out and looked around. They weren't at the movie theater or the grocery store. "What do you have on your list Natasha ?

She took his hand and started walking. "Something we need to do." They entered a local community center, and Sam spotted the sign for a veteran's support group. He squeezed her hand and stopped. "What do you have in mind 'Tasha ?"

She spun around and took, both of his hands in hers. "The other day at the team mud run obstacle course – when you sprained your ankle."

It took a few seconds, but he caught her cover story for their actual combat mission a week ago. "Yeah, the mud run."

"You were looking out for me, but Steve thinks… and I think, you might have been looking out for Riley too."

Sam let his eyes wander around the ceiling as he licked his suddenly dry lips. "That's a lot of thinking without talking to me."

Natasha shrugged. "I thought you might have an easier time talking here."

He let go of her hands. "I didn't have a flashback or anything. I just needed to watch your back because that's what a wingman-" His heart started to pound and the room felt warmer. Sam sucked in a breath and took a few steps, trying to shake off it off. 

Natasha was under a HYDRA agent. She had shouted that she had it, but Sam hadn't checked his dive. He was going in to help her. He had needed to help her. Then it was like the HYDRA goon was blown off her – she had used her widow's bite. Sam never saw the RPG coming out him. The only reason that Natasha didn't have to scrape him off the pavement was because Steve never missed with his shield. Sam was just knocked off balance and landed hard on his ankle. 

Riley and Natasha weren't remotely alike as people. If Sam was up on a witness stand, he wouldn't be able to say which one of them meant more to him. It was so much more than their skills complementing each other. It was about their brainwaves meshing and the absolute certainty that each of them had his back. Yeah, Natasha was his wingman, and Sam was doing a lousy job being hers.

Before he said anything, a man stepped out of the side room where the group was gathering.

"Hey there, Randy Thompson, 1st Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion – Marines." Randy walked straight toward them, first shaking Natasha's hand where she said, "Natasha Wexler." Then he waited for Sam and Sam just stared at his hand for a minute, like shaking it would be admitting something.

"Sam Wilson, 58th Rescue Squadron." Randy's hand felt very real and Sam remembered every time he'd been on Randy's end of this conversation. 

"Good to meet you Natasha, Sam. We're going to get started inside. We've got some coffee and donuts, you're welcome too."

If he was going to be more than her boyfriend, Sam knew he had to work on getting his shit together. Sam looked at Natasha as he said, "Coffee sounds good. You coming in with us, wingman?"

"If you want me to."

"Yeah, that would be good," Sam felt relief wash through him. Admitting how you were really feeling, was always a step in the right direction. 

"Great," Randy said and led the way into the room where a dozen veterans were quietly chatting. 

"Bringing you here wasn't exactly subtle, but it will be good for both of us, partner."

Sam nodded, "The word you're looking for is wingman."

"I can remember that," Natasha said.

"Yeah, yeah, that's good. And I see what you did there, Natasha _Wexler_. You made up a cover out of _Sharknado_. You got a chain saw for a hand?"

A slow smile spread on Natasha's face as she picked up a donut covered with pink icing and sprinkles. "If I do, it only comes out when I'm naked."

Sam poured a cup of coffee. "Then I will put getting you naked on my to-do list." He looked at the room of vets, settling into their chairs. "But first we do this."

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Sperrywink for the last minute beta and much needed encouragement.


End file.
